"M.O.P.S. in Space" - Chapter Four

M.O.P.S. in Space

Chapter Four

By Douglas E. Gogerty

"Jesus! Do something!" exclaimed Angus.

"I'm a Kern," responded Kelly. "I'm dressed as a Sixteenth Century Irish foot soldier."

"Right," apologized Angus. "That is why you have that fake Irish accent."

"Would you two knock it off?" yelled Tommy. "Victor is being implanted with some sort of space seed and you two are making jokes!"

"Sorry," replied Kelly.

"That was a good episode of Star Trek," muttered Angus.

"Space Seed?" whispered Kelly. "It was the basis of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan."

"A fine movie," continued Angus. "Ricardo Montalban was sure buff in that movie."

"Do you think his chest was real?" asked Kelly. "Or, do you think he was wearing a prosthetic?"

"I said knock it off you two!" insisted Tommy. "What are we going to do for Victor?"

"It is looking like he is doing fine by himself," replied Angus.

"She *is* a hottie," added the bartender.

"What do you want us to do?" asked Kelly.

"We have weapons," replied Tommy.

"But they are zip-tied to our sheaths," Angus added. "We cannot remove them, hence the term -- peace-knot."

"I have a pocket knife," Tommy said. "I can cut those cable-ties in a few seconds. I could have my swords out in a no time."

"What's stopping you Conan?" asked Angus.

"I have an idea," interrupted Kelly.

"What?" asked Tommy and Angus simultaneously.

Kelly walked over and tapped the octopod female on one of her eight shoulders. "Excuse me Miss," he said.

With the distraction, the woman removed herself from Victor's face. If you have never seen a middle-aged space octopus with too much make-up on, then you do not know how difficult it was for the MOPS members to squelch their cries of disgust. In actuality, it was too difficult for Tommy who let out a "how gross" before he could stop himself.

"What is it boys?" the female formerly occupying their friend's face asked.

"It is -- just -- that," stumbled Kelly. "We would like to include our friend in our conversation."

"Your conversation about old Star Trek movies?" she asked.

"Well -- er -- ah -- that," stammered Kelly. "And, conversation topics in general."

"It is okay," she purred. "Gogle informed me that you humans have genitalia proportional to the size of your hands and feet. With this guy's giant hand, I was expecting -- a bit more."

"Holy crap!" exclaimed Angus. "Look at his hand!"

The sperm packet that Victor had taken earlier was now a raging infection in his hand. It had expanded to 3 times its normal size. Jeves, who had been sitting nearby but not participating in the various conversations, jumped up and rushed over.

"We had better take care of that," she said.

"Are you a doctor?" asked Tommy.

"I am the knowledge repository for the medical planet Earth, but otherwise known as Generalis Hospitalicus. In addition, I have access to Gogle's knowledge," Jeves Replied. "I should be well suited for the job. I will need a few things."

She walked over to Iiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaah, the bartender, and asked for some supplies. With her ten legs moving quickly, the bartender supplied Jeves with her every request, which included another espresso.

Jeves walked over to where Victor was lounging.

"Where is my sexy octopod girlfriend?" Victor slurred.

"She *is* a hottie," added the bartender.

"Thanks dollface," replied the female who tried to be intimate with Victor.

"Here drink this," insisted Jeves handing Victor the cup of espresso.

"Okay"

"Just a little pinprick," Jeves stated as she poked the finger of his ballooning hand. "There'll be no more..."

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" screamed Victor

"But you may feel a little sick," included Jeves

"Can you stand up?" asked Angus

"I do believe its working," stated Jeves confidently.

"Good," replied Angus.

"That'll keep you going for the show," sang Kelly.

"Come on its time to go," Tommy added.

"How do you feel?" Angus asked Victor.

"I -- I -- I have become -- terribly nauseous," Victor proclaimed as he heaved the entire contents of his stomach into the bucket that Jeves was holding.³

As Victor continued to make-out with the bucket like he did with the female octopod, the remaining three MOPS members settled back into their seats at the bar.

Tommy turned to the bartender and said, "You know that alcohol you poured for Jeves earlier? Well, could I have a dash of that with some of that carbonic acid stuff you gave Kelly, but without the sugar -- er -- sucrose?"

"One gin and tonic coming up," replied the bartender.⁴

"Make that two!" added Angus pouring the baking soda and the remainder of his scotch-esque beverage into Victor's bucket.

"Jesus, do you want anything?"

"I am a Kern," started Kelly but was interrupted by wails of laughter coming from Angus. "I'm good," he finished with quite a dejected look upon his face.

"I heard that Ricardo Montalban was a workout nut, and that was his real chest," Tommy proclaimed out of nowhere.

"No way!" exclaimed Angus. "He had to be in his sixties when the movie came out..."

"Excuse me gentleman," interrupted a large, blue-green, two-legged, four-armed stranger.

"Yes?" the three non-puking MOPS members replied.

"Are those weapons you are carrying?" he asked.

"No!" they replied except Tommy who said yes.

"Can I see?" he continued.

"They are attached to our sheaths," insisted Angus. "We cannot remove them."

"I can take care of that," added the stranger as he pulled out some wire cutters and cut each zip-tie.

"This is a replica of the sword Henry the fifth carried," explained Tommy proudly.

"Who?" asked the stranger.

"He was the fifth King of England named Henry," answered Tommy with some pride of his knowledge. "He ruled briefly in the fourteenth century."

"England?" the stranger replied. "I have never heard of such a planet."

"It is not a planet -- sir," replied Tommy. "It is a country on Earth."

"I am from here on Earth, and we have no such country."

"I see what Gogle means by it being confusing -- no -- our earth."

"Oh, I see...," replied the stranger. "So how does this weapon work? Does it emit some sort of high energy sound wave when you swing it?"

"No sir," replied Tommy with a more and more respectful tone. "It is an old fashioned weapon that must make contact with the target."

"Actual physical contact?" the stranger enquired.

"Yes," replied Tommy. "They are very short ranged weapons that do slashing, piercing or blugeoning damage depending upon how it is used."

"Cool!" proclaimed the stranger excitedly. "And these artifacts come from your planet?"

"They do," Tommy said with some hesitation. He added quickly, "But, these are replicas of old weapons. We have much more advanced weapons than this."

"I would like to know more about what some guy called a president calls nuke-you-lerr weapons, but if this is all you have," the stranger said. "How much are you selling these for?"

"Oh they're not for sale!" Tommy replied excitedly.

"What?" ask the stranger. "You vendors cannot make any money if you do not sell your goods."

"Oh," sighed Tommy with some relief. "We're not vendors."

"What?" asked the stranger as he straightened up and turned less blue-green and more blue.

"Funny story," Tommy chuckled nervously. "We sort of got caught up in Gogle's pseudo-impossibility bubble thingy -- ha ha."

"This party is by invitation only," stated the stranger who was now very blue -- a navy blue. He looked very official.

"Um...," stammered Tommy. "But we..."

"As chief security agent here," proclaimed the chief security agent (IE the stranger). "I demand to see your invitations."

"Ha ha," laughed Tommy nervously. "I must have left my invitation in my other pants."

"You're not wearing pants," Angus whispered to Tommy. "You just have leggings and greaves."

"Shut up!" whispered Tommy back to Angus.

"Do any of you have invitations?" asked the security chief.

"Well," they all began.

"Then out you go," replied the chief grabbing each MOPS member by the forearm with one of his four arms. Actually, he grabbed them by the forearm with a hand that was on the end of one of his four arm's forearms.

"But we...," whimpered Victor.

"And another thing, I do not know who told you my name was Butwe, but you should be calling me Chief Security Agent Butwe at the very least!"

"Ummm," Victor mumbled with a blush.

After Chief Security Agent Butwe pushed the four men out into the street of the strange alien world, he pointed to a sign with what appeared to be random marks on it. The only thing the MOPS members could make any sense out of was the letters OK in the middle.

"It clearly says," started Chief Security Agent Butwe, "that it is not OK for non-vendors to enter. Come back tomorrow when the convention officially opens to the public."

A few natives -- two-legged, four-armed creatures -- rushed by staring and whispering to each other. They all hurried away from these strangely dressed and strange looking creatures. It is exactly how people on earth behave towards people dressed in such costumes outside of Renaissance Faires and comic book conventions.

With that, the door was closed and the four MOPS members were locked out of the only place on this planet that they had ever known. Victor still had his bucket which contained mostly of the contents of his stomach, but it did not smell too bad thanks to the baking soda Angus added. However, it was fizzing a bit.

---

NOTES:

3:
Hello? Lyrics to the Pink Floyd Song Comfortably Numb...

4: Douglas Adams. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. New York, NY: Crown Publishers, Inc., 1980. pp. 182-183.